


Twelfth Night

by imogene_lovelace



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imogene_lovelace/pseuds/imogene_lovelace
Summary: "Standard procedure was for Mulder to flirt with her, just a little, and for her to step back, but not enough so that he would stop trying.  But tonight she hadn't felt like stepping back."
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 56





	Twelfth Night

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in 2008 but never published. I saw _Twelfth Night_ at the theater and rewatched some X-Files episodes in the same week, and this was the result.

Mulder was not usually in the habit of drinking alone in his motel room, but it had been a long day. Upon further consideration, he decided that the best remedy for drinking alone was to invite someone else to share it with him, and as usual, there was only one person he would call. 

"Scully." 

"It's me, and I've got a six-pack here from... oh christ, I don't even know which one of them it was. Wanna help me out with it?" 

"Mulder, accepting gifts from crime suspects violate the FBI's code of conduct." 

"And if I don't violate it at least once a week I get all twitchy. C'mon, unless you've got something better to do. They don't get Lifetime; I checked." 

He could hear the next door over opening, and then there was a soft knock. Scully stood there in untucked blouse, bare feet, and a wrinkled skirt which he briefly wondered if she'd been wearing when he called. 

"You've got to be kidding, Mulder. Zima?" He followed her gaze to the table. 

"Would you prefer Bud Light?" 

"I just might." But she took one anyway, struggled with the top, and handed it to him. 

"Oh Scully, you make me feel all manly." He handed the open bottle back to her, and she took it to a disturbingly stained chair while he sprawled on the bed. 

"I think this case is messing with my head, Scully. More Twelfth Night than Macbeth." 

"Complete with strangely similar twins." 

"And no ghosts, witches, or dead bodies. I'm out of my element." 

"Fools, however, abound." Scully shifted uncomfortable on the chair. 

"Those things are torture devices. There's plenty of room over here." Mulder patted the bed next to him. 

To his surprise, Scully actually moved to the bed and leaned against a pillow. "You know, those are my two favorite Shakespeare plays." 

"Twelfth Night and Macbeth? Really? Why?" 

"I've always been fascinated by Lady Macbeth's lust for power. And Twelfth Night, I guess it's the relationship between Orsino and Viola. She's completely in love with him but can't tell him because he thinks she's a man, and she has to go and try to woo this other woman for him. And he's falling for her too, but he's really confused about it, obviously. So there are all these great scenes where they're together, both feeling this passion but unable to acknowledge it." 

_Unacknowledged passion is practically the story of my life right now,_ Mulder thought. Sometimes Scully gave him reason to believe he wasn't the only one, that this thing, whatever it was, between them was mutual, but it was never enough to be sure. Like right now: was she coming on to him, or did she have no idea what she was saying? Noting that her bottle was nearly empty, Mulder thought the line between the two might be slightly fuzzy at the moment. Time to choose his words carefully. 

"I always wanted to see what happened between them afterwards. The play ends so abruptly---guess what, I'm a girl, great, once you change clothes we'll go make out. It's like he suddenly realizes the meaning of all his feelings, and they're so intense that he knows she's the only woman for him, but he's having trouble getting used to it. I want to see what happens when she comes back to him as a woman, and they can finally express their desire---too hot for the stage, probably." 

The way Scully was looking at him gave Mulder the distinct impression of "now or never," and he leaned in to her. 

**************** 

Scully was not exactly surprised when Mulder kissed her. She knew they'd been walking that line, and that she was probably responsible for going just a little bit farther than they had before. Standard procedure was for Mulder to flirt with her, just a little, and for her to step back, but not enough so that he would stop trying. But tonight she hadn't felt like stepping back - maybe it was the combination of alcohol and the events of the past few days, but she really hadn't wanted to sit in that chair, she'd wanted to be close to Mulder, and then she started talking about simmering passion. She hadn't intended for it to go much farther than this, but now that she was kissing Mulder, she really didn't want to stop. 

It had been too long since she'd been with a man like this, since she'd felt a mouth on her breasts ( _yes, Mulder_ she thought, making encouraging moans so he'd know she liked it). And it was Mulder, and she'd wanted him for longer than she cared to admit to herself, and tonight she wanted him all the way and to hell with the fact that this was going to be massively awkward tomorrow. And then he was pulling her skirt off and putting his mouth between her legs and she was probably making all kinds of indiscreet noises but god, it felt good. 

Scully wondered why he stopped, but when she opened her eyes she saw him putting on the condom and she writhed a little in what she hoped was an alluring manner. She moaned when he put one finger inside her, then breathed "yes!" when he asked her if she was ready. "God, yes, Mulder," she moaned when he was inside her. She still felt like she needed something else, so she slid a hand between their bodies to touch herself, and then everything was perfect. 

She had never before been with a man who called her "Scully" in bed, but she found it much more endearing than "baby" or "darling" or even "Dana." Mulder whispered her name reverently as he rocked into her, and as he came he chanted it softly and desperately into her ear. He looked down at her with adoration, like he couldn't believe what she had just let him do, but Scully was still focused on needing him inside her and commanded him not to move until she came, gasping and shuddering. 

**************** 

When Mulder woke up the next morning, Scully was no longer in his bed. He could still smell her in the sheets and on his skin, but her clothes were no longer scattered on the floor and he could faintly hear the shower running in her room next door. 

When she joined him in the car half an hour later, she had reverted to cool, professional Scully, bearing only a passing resemblance to the woman who had been moaning his name in bed only a few hours previously. "Mulder, we need to talk." 

Surely those were words of doom. "About last night?" 

"Yes, about last night. It was just as much my fault as yours, but I think it was probably a mistake." 

Mulder felt like several knots where tightening around his stomach. He'd been afraid of this, his ever-practical partner explaining why they really shouldn't be lovers. "But it was good, wasn't it?" 

She smiled. "Yes, it was. But we've worked so hard, and been through so much, to stay together as partners, so I don't want to jeopardize that just for something physical. And maybe now that we've gotten it out of our systems, so to speak, we can go back to just being partners." 

"I don't think I can ever get you of my system, Scully." 

She looked surprised at that, like she hadn't expected him to say anything that could possibly be construed as romantic. Mulder was a bit surprised himself, but Scully's rejection was making him realize that what he wanted from her was more than just "something physical." He wanted her to acknowledge that they were already closer than some married couples, just without the sex---until last night. And Mulder wanted all of it, including the sex. 

**************** 

Scully had been implacable. That night in the motel had been a moment of weakness. To repeat it would be a bad idea, it would damage their working relationship, it could be used against them and against the X-Files. When Mulder scoffed about someone sending pictures of them in bed to Skinner, she just gave him an "it could really happen and you know it" look. 

But now Mulder knew how Scully tasted in more ways than one, and he wanted her more than ever. 

Now, not quite two weeks later, Mulder again found himself alone in a motel room with Scully just a wall away, a case with at least three dead bodies and three possible witches to be dealt with again tomorrow, and not even a Zima to keep him company. He knew he should be going over case files, but all he could think about was Scully. He thought about explaining to her that not sleeping with her was going to damage their working relationship, since he would quite possibly go mad. 

At the very least he could go talk to her about the case. And maybe, just maybe, being alone with him in a motel room would have the same effect on her that it did last time. He slipped a condom into his pocket, just in case. Then he looked at himself in the mirror and decided he could work on looking sexy, and took off his button-down leaving only a white undershirt. _No_ , he thought---that would work for some women, but he had a hunch it wasn't right for Scully. He took off the undershirt and replaced the button-down, leaving the top few buttons undone. That was better. 

When he knocked on Scully's door, it took her a moment to answer. "Yes?" 

"It's me. Can I come in?" 

"Just a minute." Mulder heard rustling, then some water running, and then Scully opened the door, looking rather rumpled in a blouse and pajama pants. Christ, she was sexy. He thought he detected a faint smell of sex in the air, which made him wonder if Scully had been... just now... _I am imagining things_ , he told himself. 

"I, um... I thought we could talk about the case," Mulder stammered. 

"Okay. What about it?" 

_That is a very good question_ , Mulder thought as he sat down in yet another unpleasant chair. _I should have thought of an answer before coming over here._ Scully sat on the bed, arms folded across her knees, looking rather distracted. 

"So, the first witch... or potential witch... do you think she killed all of them, or just one?" 

"What? Oh, I don't know. We don't have any evidence yet. Mulder, you didn't really come here to talk about the case, did you?" 

Mulder tried to put on his best innocent face. "Scully, why else would would I be in your motel room in the middle of the night?" 

A puzzling smile crept across Scully's face. "Mulder, come here." 

Still unsure of what was going on in Scully's head, Mulder walked over to the bed, and Scully grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him onto it. Suddenly she was all over him, her tongue finding his, her hand undoing the buttons of his shirt. When they were both undressed she sat up and looked frustrated. "Do you have a..." 

"Pants pocket." Mulder realized that he was admitting his ulterior motives in coming to her room, but it didn't seem to matter anymore. She leaned over him to reach into the pocket of his discarded pants, and then it was on and she was on top of him and he was inside her. Mulder thought that watching her touch herself as she rode him was possibly the most sublimely erotic sight he had ever witnessed, but it was soon eclipsed by watching her come, arching her back in ecstasy. 

Scully lay back on the bed and opened her legs for him again, and soon Mulder was calling her name as he climaxed. He curled up beside her, but she seemed restless. 

"Something the matter?" 

"No." But she said it in a tone that made him wonder, so he experimentally slid a hand down her belly and she gasped and moved against him. 

"All you have to do is ask, Scully." Mulder slid down the bed until he could put his tongue where she wanted it, and he stirred her into a shrieking, sheet-grabbing frenzy. By the time he was finished she had taken the names of multiple members of the Trinity in vain. 

"Wow, Scully," Mulder said as he took her in his arms again, kissing her neck. "Everything I've ever been told about Catholic girls is apparently true." 

Scully blushed. "I shudder to think what else you've been told." 

"I have to ask you something... when I knocked earlier, were you... um... you know..." 

She buried her face in the pillow. "Yes." 

"So that's why you jumped me when I came in?" 

"I'm so embarrassed." 

"Don't be. You just made several of my fantasies come true." 

**************** 

Mulder was still in Scully's bed when she woke up the next morning. She gazed at him for a moment, contemplating that she might have been wrong about their ability to be lovers and partners at the same time. She'd clearly been wrong about her ability to keep her hands off him. God, the man knew how to use his tongue. 

Then she looked at the clock. "Mulder, wake up. We're late." 

Mulder opened his eyes. "Hey Scully, wait a minute," he said as she started to get out of bed. "I think I might be in love with you." 

She kissed his temple. "I love you too, Mulder." 

"Good." He smiled. "Does that mean we can do this again?" 

"Yes, Mulder, it does. But first, we have an appointment with the coroner in twenty minutes." 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Twelfth Night_ and _Macbeth_ are my two favorite Shakespeare plays, for all the reasons Scully describes in this story.


End file.
